Strange Weather
by Mina Flink
Summary: A routine abduction turns into a monster of a case for Roger. If you're brave enough, read before you review, thanks.
1. When and Where

Chapter One: Where and When  
  
  
Roger Smith returned to his home after an easy day of work. Nothing had gone wrong, and the negotiation was easy. A simple hostage situation was always better than something that caused Big O to make an appearance.  
Roger glanced at the large black stretch limo sitting in front of his home but saw no movement inside or outside of its shiny surface, so he continued on his way. He opened the door and walked in, meeting Norman, who caught his coat as Roger shrugged it off.  
"You have a guest sir." Norman said, motioning to Roger's study door that was half open.  
"Who is it?" Roger asked, straightening his tie. There was absolutely no reason to look the least bit mussed in front of new clients. It would make them think his job was hard.  
"A young lady, sir. She said she would only talk to you."  
Roger smiled. That's what they always said. "Thank you, Norman."  
He walked into the study, opening the door so that it made no noise. He wanted a chance to observe his potential client first. He glanced around and saw nobody, wondering for a fleeting moment if Norman had gone off his rocker. Then Roger stepped further into the room and saw that the doors to the balcony were open.   
The wind blew the curtains into his face, and Roger pushed them aside to see a slight form sitting on the balcony rail, legs tucked beneath her petite form.  
"Welcome home, Mr. Smith."  
Roger smiled. She didn't turn around but she knew he was there.  
"You know, only women are allowed to enter my home unconditionally. And not that I'm complaining, but I didn't even get the courtesy of your name." Roger said walking forward.  
He watched as she slowly turned on the rail, placing her feet gently on the balcony before getting up. Roger was not surprised to see that she was a rather attractive woman. She was dressed in all white, a sleeveless white dress that fell below her knees with matching heels and a white feminine fedora covering her hair. The only color in her wardrobe was a red rosebud stuck in the white satin ribbon around the crown of the hat.   
"My name is Charisse Triax, Mr. Smith. I'm sure you've heard the name." She stated it like a fact more than a boast.  
"You're father is Darnell Triax, Paradigm City's leading producer of plastics and other useful materials. Also rumored to be thick as thieves with Alex Rosewater." Roger said, watching her for a reaction.  
She nodded and walked past him and went back inside to pick up the white satin purse that sat on his desk.  
Roger followed her in and closed the doors behind them, and that finally got a reaction from her.  
Charisse jumped a little at the low click of the doors, but she shook it off and opened the purse. She took out a photo, a tape recorder, and a note written on embossed paper that held the mark of the Triax Corporation in the top left-hand corner, three triangles interlocked inside a circle.  
"I want to hire you, Mr. Smith, to help me get my father back. I found these early yesterday morning on my father's pillow. He had been abducted the previous evening when the house had been empty. I had gone out for the night and it was a day off for all the servants."  
She handed the items to Roger and he glanced at them. The photograph was of Darnell Triax, bound to a chair and blindfolded and gagged. The note typed in a standard font and was the basic "Don't call the cops, we'll call you" randsom. Roger pressed the play button on the tape recorder and listened while watching Charisse's face.  
The tape started slowly, with a few scrapings and some muffled noises. Then a voice, presumably Darnell Triax, could be heard faintly as if someone was watching the abduction taking place so they could record it. Finally there was a loud scuffle and Darnell was no longer speaking.  
Charisse closed her eyes and a tear slid down her slim, pale cheek. Roger frowned and handed her a black handkerchief from a pocket inside his double-breasted suit. She accepted it with white-gloved hands and wiped away the tears.   
It seems that we have a standard kidnapping, Miss Triax. I would be happy to accept this case for you."  
Charisse handed the handkerchief back to him, her eyes dry, and took off her hat, revealing long coppery hair swept into a tight french twist on the back of her head. A few stray curls escaped the tight bonds and fell next to her face. She turned and opened the doors to the balcony again, the wind blowing her skirt.  
"I love the wind, Mr. Smith. It's so cleansing. There's no pretense to it's power. It brings what it can and it takes what it can and it never takes just to have more."  
Roger stood close behind her, taking in the scent of her perfume. "I agree with you, Miss Triax. But the wind also brings strange weather, and with that comes problems."  
Charisse turned and Roger realized how close they were. He looked into her olive green eyes and she stared right back, her gaze never wavering.  
"Thank you Mr. Smith. My father means the world to me, and I love him dearly."  
She then brushed past him, her shoulder brushing against his arm, sending tingles up Roger's arm that intrigued him. Charisse picked up her hand and put it back on, picking up her purse as well.  
"The note says the kidnappers will call at 3 o'clock tomorrow. I assume you will be there. I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Smith." Charisse held out a hand to him.  
Roger took it and smiled at how firm her grip was, "You can call me Roger."  
A faint smile played at her crimson painted lips, "Then I guess you may call me Charisse."  
He walked her to the door. Usually he let Norman show them the way out, but he couldn't help wanting to spend more time with her. Roger helped her slip on her white coat and resisted the urge to button it for her. He opened the door of the black stretch limo and she got in.   
Roger held her hand to help her in and reassured her, "You've hired the best negotiator in town. You're father will be home soon."  
"I hope so, Roger."  
The limousine rolled down the street and turned a corner, no longer visible. Roger when back inside to his study and sat down at the desk. He began to study the three things she had given him. He was concentrating so hard that he didn't hear the door open or see Dorothy step through.  
"Another job, Roger?" She asked.  
"Dorothy. It is customary to knock before one enters a room." Roger said, looking up from the note.  
"If it is customary, then why don't you do it?" She asked in her robotic monotone that was entirely too appropriate for an android.  
"That's not the point Dorothy. . ." Roger sighed. He never won these logic battles with Dorothy.  
"What is your new case?"  
Roger pushed the note and the picture towards her. Dorothy picked them up and studied them silently.  
"I know. It seems like a standard kidnapping. But something isn't right." Roger pressed the play button on the tape recorder and played it for Dorothy. When it was over she looked at him for an explanation.  
"Someone really wants to frighten this woman. They don't just want money. They want something from her."  
"What are you going to do about it, Roger?"  
Roger got up and took the paper and the photograph from her, "I intend to find out exactly why someone is trying to scare the hell out of Charisse Triax. I also intend to negotiate for her father."  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Terms

Chapter 2: Terms   
  
  
The large door opened before Roger could even grasp the large brass knocker shaped like a great bird.  
"The phoenix, actually." Charisse explained when he questioned her about them.  
She had met him in the mansions enormous library. Again, she was dressed in completely white attire. She wore white slacks with a form fitting white sweater and an expensive pair of white flats. Again, her only hint of color was a red rosebud pinned to her sweater.   
"When the kidnappers call, let me answer the phone." Roger said.  
Charisse nodded silently and sat down on a soft couch illuminated by a reading lamp. She clasped her hands together and bit her lips, again painted a dark, sultry crimson. Roger leaned casually against the oak desk that was home to the only telephone in the room. Charisse looked up at him and smiled nervously.  
"Can I get you something? Coffee, tea?"  
Roger opened his mouth to politely decline when the doors to the library burst open. "Charisse, I came as soon as I could." The new arrival said, taking her hands as she rose from her seat.  
"Seth, I'm so glad to see you. But I hope you weren't called away from anything important." She embraced him and held his hand as she turned to Roger.  
"Seth, this is Roger Smith, the best negotiator in Paradigm. Roger, this is Dr. Seth Goldwyn. He has been our physician for years and a family friend for even longer."  
Seth held out a hand and Roger accepted it, scrutinizing the good doctor. He was still a young man, but patches of gray at the temples of his shaggy, chestnut brown hair revealed him as closer to forty. He looked the part of the honorable physician, down to the wire rim glasses that sat in front of dark brown eyes. He was dressed neatly but simply, his gray suit pressed and his sapphire blue tie spotless.  
"Darnell Triax has been my closest friend for almost ten years. I trust that you will get him back safely."  
Roger nodded shortly, "It's what I get paid for."  
Seth returned his nod and went to sit on the couch with Charisse. He put a comforting arm around her and Roger felt himself wince with a twinge of jealously. All three of them jumped when the phone rang. Roger picked it up on the second ring.  
"Hello."  
The voice on the other end was definitely a by-product of a sound synthesizer, "We want to speak to Triax."  
"This is Roger Smith, her negotiator."  
The voice paused for a moment, and Roger could faintly hear an argument in the background. He strained to hear, but they had a hand over the receiver and it was difficult to get anything except a few jumbled words.  
"Very well, Mr. Smith." The voice once again returned, "Our demands are simple. We want Miss Triax to cancel the Eden Project by eight a.m. tomorrow or Daddy here dies."  
"I'd like to hear from Mr. Triax first. I want some proof that he is still alive."  
Again there was a muffled silence, and Roger turned, taking his attention away from the phone for a moment when he felt a hand on his arm. Charisse was standing behind him, her slim hand on his forearm, a look of anxious concern washing over her features.  
"Let me talk to him, Roger. Please."  
Roger nodded in reply and. "Don't say anything, as much as you want to. Then they'll know how desperate you are and they won't return your father any time soon."  
Charisse nodded, "I'll try to remember."  
Roger handed her the phone and she held it to her ear with both hands.  
"Daddy?" She said, her voice so low it was almost a whisper.  
"Charisse! Whatever they want, don't do it! I'm fine! Just don't give in to them!"  
Charisse was on the verge of tears, "Daddy!"  
Roger took the phone from her gently and Seth pulled her back to the couch. Roger put the phone back to his ear and the voice was back, "Eight a.m. or else."  
"No deal." Roger said coolly.  
Charisse leapt off the couch and had Seth not held her arm she would have wrenched the phone out of Roger's hand.  
"Fine. Bring documented proof that the Eden Project has been cancelled to the edge of the Coldwater Cemetery tomorrow morning, eight a.m. No cops, just you, the documents, and Miss Triax." The voice said.  
"I'll expect you to be there with Mr. Triax and no weapons. We'll have what you want." Roger agreed and he replaced the phone on the receiver.  
He turned and looked at Charisse who was still trying to wrench free of Seth's hold on her arm. Roger nodded and Seth let go. She glared at him, then faced Roger.  
"What the hell do you think you were doing?! No deal?! They could have killed him right then and there!" She was breathing hard, her tirade taking more than it's fair share of her energy.  
Roger was almost amused, but he kept a straight face, "They wouldn't go to all the trouble of kidnapping him just to kill him. Can you tell me what the Eden Project is?"  
Charisse's anger quickly quenched, "Yes, why?"  
"They want documented proof that it will be cancelled by eight a.m. tomorrow. That's all."  
"That's all? No money or jewels or a car?" Charisse looked puzzled.  
"What exactly is the Eden Project?" Roger asked.  
"It's an agricultural study that tests different hybrid plants in different growing conditions to see what can be done to make them better. It's a lot of technology and gene splicing." She shook her head, "I don't know why they would want that canceled, but it's not a problem. I'll do it."  
"What does Triax Plastics Inc. have to do with an agricultural study?" Roger asked, getting curious as to just what kind of case he was handling.  
Seth stood up, "I believe I can answer this question. When Darnell started his company, he was just making plastics. But when he expanded his business, he started investing in research that would utilize his products, and one of these studies happened to be the Eden Project. When it's finished, Triax Plastics Inc. will be the name on every plant produced. Darnell figured it would be, if nothing else, fabulous publicity."  
"So he only funds this? He has nothing to do with what is done in labs?" Roger asked, starting to get a vague idea of what might be going on.  
"Dad does make sure that only plants are tested. He abhors animal testing, so it can't be an animal rights group." Charisse said, "And if he ever found out anything going on was a moral risk, he would cancel funding right away. My father isn't the monster that the other industrialists are."  
She said it with such conviction that Roger believed her, "Well, these people, whoever they are, want that study cancelled, so I suggest that you get to it. They insist that you be there. It doesn't seem like an unreasonable request, for these people, so be at Coldwater Cemetery by eight o'clock."  
Roger opened the door to the library and walked out into the hall, taking his coat off the hanger before the butler could respond. Charisse followed him and helped him put on his black over coat.  
"Roger, I'm sorry about my outburst. I should have trusted that you knew what you were doing." She used her unwavering stare, and again Roger felt himself sinking into her olive green eyes.  
"It's all right. This is an emotionally trying experience for most people. But you'll have your father back tomorrow."  
Charisse nodded, then in a sudden fit of emotion, wrapped her arms around him. Roger was startled at first, but found it easy to return the embrace, although his intentions were beginning to border something that should never take place between a him and a client.  
"Thank you." Was all Charisse said. She only held onto him because she couldn't believe that she had hugged him in the first place. She finally let go and tried to turn her head, hoping to hide the blush rising to her cheeks.  
"You're welcome." He went to the door and the disgruntled butler opened it for him. He left without another word, but the chilly air seemed especially bitter now that he knew the warmth of holding her in his arms.  
  



	3. A Deal's A Deal

Chapter 3: A Deal's A Deal   
  
  
She was standing next to the black limo when Roger's sedan pulled up next to it. Charisse was solemn looking, her white, double-breasted skirt suit marring the dark of her vehicle. The red rosebud was present again, pinned to her lapel.  
In her hands were a stack of papers, all printed on paper with the Triax Plastics Inc. corporate logo on the top right hand corner. Roger got out of his car and noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.   
The morning sun had peeked over the horizon early this morning, but Roger had already been out of bed, on time, without any of Dorothy's brand of music. It was now overcast and it seemed ready to pour down rain on the rendezvous.  
"Good morning, Roger." Her hands were still shaking as she checked her watch. The shaking increased as she noticed that it was close to eight o'clock.  
"Good morning, Charisse." Roger took the papers out of her hands so she could lower them and hide the shaking she couldn't control. "Are these the documents?"  
"Yes. I had them signed and sealed last night. Everything they want is there. I hope." Charisse swallowed hard as Roger shuffled through the papers.  
"It looks like it." He skimmed the papers, reading enough to know they were orders to cease payments and work, as well as orders to destroy all materials used and being tested on. She had been thorough with her arrangements. Charisse really wanted her father back.  
The white van pulled into the cemetery, slowly passing the open iron gate with the careful pace of an inexperienced driver. The windows of the van had been painted over, and Charisse and Roger knew that Darnell had to be in the back of that van.  
It stopped slowly, about thirty yards from the other cars, and one person got out. He was dressed in black and seemed to be the driver. Another got out and he too was all in black. The driver kept an eye on Roger and Charisse as his comrade went to the back of the van. He turned the tarnished handle and the doors swung open with silent speed and two more came out, bearing Darnell Triax.  
Darnell was ragged looking, a gray, three-day growth of hair decorating his chin. His gray hair still had streaks of red that definitely placed Charisse as his daughter. Darnell was in a wrinkled and dirty white shirt with black slacks. His hands were tied behind his back and a blindfold covered his eyes.  
The two that had been in the back with him were dressed like their companions and they all wore masks that covered their faces from forehead to the tip of their noses. Roger stepped forward, placing himself between the kidnappers and Charisse.  
"Do you have what we want?" The supposed leader asked, signaling the two holding Darnell to bring him forward.  
Roger nodded and walked forward, bearing the packet of papers. All four darkly dressed men watched his every movement as he stopped and handed the papers over. The leader skimmed them in the same way Roger did, then nodded.  
The two holding Darnell let go and instructed him to stand still. The leader looked at Roger, "I want you and Miss Triax to stand still until you can no longer see this van. Then you may reclaim Mr. Triax. It has been a pleasure doing business with you."  
The four backed to the van and got in. Roger and Charisse waited until the van was out of sight before they moved forward. Roger removed the blindfold, and saw a pair of eyes that could have been Charisse's.   
Charisse pushed past Roger with gentle urgency and hugged her father. Roger moved around to untie the elderly man's hands and noticed that though Charisse seemed tall, she was dwarfed in her father's arms. Though he was older, Darnell Triax was still an impressive specimen. He was at least six feet tall and well built from long days in a gym with personal trainers.  
Roger stood back and watched as Darnell buried his face in his daughter's hair, then looked up at him, still holding her. He held out a hand and Roger took it.  
"Mr. Smith, I can't thank you enough. I hope that my daughter paid you very well for your services."  
Charisse held her father tightly, and looked up, the tears staining her cheeks were ones of joy, but Roger still felt the urge to wipe them away. He suddenly had the notion that she should never cry.  
"Thank you, Roger. For all you've done." She said and she led her father to the back of the limousine. Charisse helped him in, never letting go of his hand. She smiled one last time at Roger before getting in after Darnell. The door to the limo shut and it rolled away into the distance.  
Roger opened the door to The Griffin and got in, driving home at his usual pace. The traffic was light for midmorning, and he was able to push his thoughts aside for the moment, lost in the speed of his car. Before he knew it, he was pulling up in front of his home and was in the front door, handing his coat to Norman.  
"You received a letter sir." Norman said, "It's on your desk."  
"Thank you Norman." Roger said, and he went into his study, closing the door behind him.   
On the desk was a cream colored envelope with his name and address on it. He gazed at the return address on the back, and wasn't surprised to find another envelope inside the first. He opened the second envelope and pulled out a thick, cream-colored card with gold engraved letters on it.  
He read it carefully and smiled at the notion that he was being invited to the grand gala being held in honor of Darnell Triax's sixtieth birthday the next evening. Roger chuckled, wondering how he was going to decline without seeming rude when he noticed something written on the bottom.  
The single sentence was hand written, in a flowing, careful script. He smiled again, but this time it was because the note was from Charisse. He read the three simple words again.   
"Please come. Charisse."  
Roger now wondered how he could go and stay in control around her. There was definitely something about her that attracted him. He thought back, leaning his head on one hand, thinking about her.  
Charisse seemed so calm on the outside, but on the inside was something wild and fiery, just waiting below the surface for a chance to escape. She intrigued him, and Roger was so wrapped in his thoughts that he didn't see Dorothy come in until she was standing at the edge of his desk.  
"Roger, what are you thinking about?" She asked.  
Roger looked up, a bit startled by her appearance, "I thought I told you to knock."  
"I did knock, but you were daydreaming and didn't hear me." Dorothy pointed out.  
"You should have knocked until I heard you. But I am thinking about Charisse Triax."  
Dorothy cocked her head to one side, "Charisse Triax. She was your client today."  
Roger knew Dorothy wasn't accusing him of anything, but he felt the sudden urge to justify his actions. He shook off the feeling and answered with as much dignity as he could, "Yes, she was. Now she's inviting me to her father's birthday gala."  
"Are you going to attend?"  
Roger would have said no usually, but this time, "Yes, I am planning to."  
Dorothy nodded and walked away without any further speculation.  
"Norman!" Roger called out. He walked to his study door and found the butler waiting.  
"Yes, Master Roger?"  
Roger smiled at the card in his hand, "Get out my tuxedo. I'm going to a party."   
  
  
  
  



	4. Things Aren't What They Seem

Chapter 4: Things Aren't What They Seem  
  
  
He pulled up in front of the Triax mansion fashionably late that evening. Roger Smith, dressed to kill in his tuxedo, flashed his invitation at the door and walked in. The doors to the ballroom were held open by a large pair of marble statues depicting a Greek woman and her handsome lover. The glow of chandeliers spilled ou past the opening, drenching the hall with a golden hue.  
Roger walked in, instantly lost in a sea of tuxedoes and ball gowns. He searched for the focal point of attention, the recently rescued Darnell Triax. Roger spotted him in a seclded corner, surrounded by several other middle-aged graying business men. Roger approached and waited patiently for a break in the conversation.  
"Mr. Triax, you're looking well."  
Darnell smiled and held out a hand, "Mr. Smith, I'm glad you could join us."  
Roger took it and smiled back, "How could I resist such an invitiation?"  
He stood to the side of the group and waited for the introductions to start, but Darnell cut right his point.  
"Quite right. I believe Charisse stepped into the garden if you wish to say hello."  
There was something in the old man's pleased smile that made Roger wonder how far his relationship with Charisse should go.  
Roger nodded and politely excused himself, moving towards the large glass doors that allowed direct access to the estate's gardens. They were slightly open and Roger pushed through them, letting in the evening air.  
He walked down the polished stone steps, brushing past couples of lovers, looking around for the tell-tale red locks. This evening they were half pulled up, the rest of her russet mane hanging down her back and shoulders in waves of loose curls. Her dress was her usual pure white, hanging on the egdes of her shoulders.  
Her slim arms were bare and the silk bodice was tailor perfect. Charisse was sitting on a large swing, suspended from the branch of a mighty flowering tree, her long skirt brushing the perfectly trimmed grass. She looked like a painting done in rich oil colors.  
Roger came up silently behind her and gave the swing a gentle push. Charisse turned her head and smiled brightly at him.  
"Roger, I'm glad you came."  
"Spending some time alone? I can leave if you want."  
She smiled and scooted over on the swing, "I was just wishing for some company. Sit down."  
Roger sat down next to her, facing the opposite direction, relishing the feeling of her arm pressed against his.  
"It's just so peaceful out here. Inside I feel like I can't escape, like a trapped animal."  
Roger nodded and pushed his legs, the swing moving back and forth slowly. The wind rustled the leaves of the tree above them and several green leaves dropped on top of them. Charisse laughed and picked one out of Roger's perfectly groomed hair.  
"You know, it's my father's birthday. I asked him what he wanted and what he wants more than anything else in this world, for some reason, is to see me happy." She said absently, her eyes boring into his again.  
"Then let me grant his wish."  
Roger started the kiss gently, placing his fingertips on the side of her face, caressing the soft cheek. Charisse deepened it, pressing her lips firmly against his, her tongue finding it's way into his mouth.  
She placed a hand on the back of his neck, and let the wind push them both on the swing. The kiss lasted another moment before she pulled away from him.  
"You shouldn't get in the habit of becoming involved with your clients."  
"You're father was rescued, you paid me. You are no longer a client."  
She began to protest again when Roger pushed his lips against hers, this time, passionatly.  
The swing stopped as Charisse pushed her feet against the ground, propping her body up so she could kiss the taller man. Roger put his other arm around her waist and held her close, ignoring the people that were probably staring at them.  
Behind his closed eyes he could care less whether he ever stopped, whether the world came to an end or not at the moment. He could feel the curve of her hips fill his hand and he moved his other arm to encircle her. She eagerly responded, leaning into them, and he squeezed gently.  
Charisse could feel the heat of his body on hers as she pressed against Roger. She returned his kiss, the power and passion taking her breath away. When it was over she was sure she would be gasping for breath. She knew this wasn't a very secluded spot, but she really didn't care whether her father's group of power brokers caught his only daughter making out with the negotiator.  
They continued a few more minutes, sharing the moment as long as they could, ignoring the people that passed, staring at them. The swing moved again, and Roger pulled away first when the right wing of the mansion exploded in a blaze of charred brick and ruined marbel.  
"Holy shit!" Charisse exclaimed, taking a hold of the swing chains as the backdraft blew it out of control. Roger held the other chain, keeping a stable arm around her waist.  
Roger slowed the swing with his feet and it came to a gradual halt. He got off and held out a hand to Charisse. She took it and stood up.  
"What the hell was that?" He asked, as they watched people stream from the ballroom out into the garden, dodging the flaming pieces of rubble still landing on the manicured lawns.  
"Oh no, Dad!"  
Charisse let go of his hand and ran up the steps to the glass doors that were now full of cracks. She lifted her skirt and jumped over the overturned table and chairs blocking the way in.  
"Dad!"  
She coughed, smoke from the right wing filling her lungs, choking her while she searched the ballroom. It had cleared out, tables overturned and chairs pushed askew blocked her path and made her search slow. The right wall of the ballroom had been blown away by the explosion, and she could see something coming through the new opening.  
"Charisse?"  
She spun around at the sound of her name, and almost cried to see her father coming towards her, Seth's arm around his shoulders.  
"Dad. Oh thank goodness. Are you okay?"  
She hugged him, almost causing Seth to go toppling over.  
"I'm fine, dearest. But Seth took a little spill when the wall collapsed. We need to get him outside so he can get some medical attention."  
Charisse took a good look at Seth and noticed that he was barely conscious. She nodded and slipped his other arm over her shoulders and started moving towards the garden doors.  
"Stop right there."  
Charisse almost stumbled as Darnell stopped. She looked over and noticed that she was staring down the barrel of a gun. She stopped and saw there was another gun sticking in her father's back.  
"Put him down and back away from him."  
Charisse could only assume they ment the doctor she was supporting, so she started to place him gently on the ground.  
"Then move away from him."  
Her eyes narrowed and after she had gently rested his bleeding head on the floor, she backed away slowly, watching them all.  
The one that seemed to be the leader aimed his gun at the helpless man who was almost comatose.  
"Now it ends. I knew even cancellation of funds to the project wouldn't stop you. But this will."   
He put four pounds of pressure on a five pound trigger when Charisse stepped into his line of fire.  
"Get out of the way!" He yelled at her.  
"No, I won't let you kill him."  
The man with the gun shrugged and aimed the gun at her, taking careful aim. Again he put several pounds of pressure on the trigger when the doors to the garden flew off their hinges.  
The man with the gun faltered, and Chairsse slammed her foot on his instep, hoping to get him to fall.   
"Roger!"  
Charisse finally notice who stepped through the ruined doors just as the man with the gun put an arm around her throat. He shoved the cold gun under her chin and forced her head back.  
"Back off, Smith, or I'll splatter her brains all over this ruined party."  
Roger, who had followed shortly after Charisse had taken off, stopped in his tracks. He opened his mouth to speak, but the wails of sirens could be heard in the distance.  
"It's over. The police are almost here, so just put down the gun and make it easy on yourself and your friends."  
The leader shoved the barrel into Charisse's neck, "Not a chance. I won't let that evil bastard get away with what he did."  
Roger was about to keep talking when the roar of a helicopter permeated the air. The leader signaled to his friends and they all backed towards the copter landing in the garden. He was pulling Charisse with him, and she looked at Roger with eyes wide with fear.  
"Let her go!" Roger yelled over the constant roar, "It will only make things worse!"  
The leader pulled her into the helicopter, "Things are already past worse. This will set things right!"  
Roger could only shield his eyes from the strong wind of the blades as they took off into the air. He watched their accent until something pulled on his arm. He turned and saw Darnell Triax, flustered, worried and frantic.  
"Please, you must get her back! Charisse is everything to me!"  
"I will. Just go back inside and wait for the police."  
Darnell nodded and walked quickly back inside muttering "thank you"'s in his wake.  
Roger grimaced in the direction that the helicopter had disappeared in. He brushed off his tuxedo and straightened the cuffs before pulling the one on the left back.  
"BIG-O, IT'S SHOWTIME!"  
  
  
  



	5. Truth Be Told

Chapter 5: Truth Be Told   
  
  
  
"You don't understand what you're dealing with. You're the little rich girl, growing up inside a dome, blind to what's going on under your own nose."  
"Then tell me! Explain to me why this is necessary!" Charisse protested.  
The leader, gun still trained on her, pulled the satin ribbon from around her waist and tied her hands together with it, making the ribbon a mess of complicated knots and twists.  
He shook his head, "This is something not even your father could stop. I thought if I got the project cancelled, then it would all stop. But I was wrong. It's nothing against you, or your father, as a matter of fact, but this is my only option. Dr. Seth Goldwyn must be stopped before he hurts anyone else."  
The leader released her hands, having finished tying them tightly, moving to talk to the pilot without another word. Charisse struggled against her bonds, angry to find the satin wasn't as delicate as the salesperson had guaranteed.  
One of the others, a blond young woman with dark blue eyes, a long braid and a large gun came and sat next to her.  
"My name is Ella. I'm sorry you got caught up in this. My family was helped by one of the Triax family charities. My little sister lived because of it. I promise, nothing will happen to you."  
"I'm glad your sister got better. Can I ask you a question?"  
Ella pushed her long blond braid over her shoulder, "Sure."  
"Who's the leader of this group, and what is going on?"  
"Oh, our leader is Abel. He got us together to stop the Eden Project. When the people that disappeared started turning up dead, he knew something had to be done."  
"Wait a minute, " Charisse interrupted, "Disappearing people? Dead?"  
"Let me explain." Ella sighed and shifted in her seat, "People outside the domes, the elderly, children, cripples; those easy to catch, started to disappear a few months ago, including Abel's son, Mark.  
"So Abel decided to do some research after his son's body turned up horribly mutated beyond recognition. Two people died when Abel snuck into those labs, but they learned the true nature of the Eden Project."  
"What did he find?" Charisse asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.  
"I'm getting to that. When Abel snuck in, he took photos of everything he saw. Most of them were test tubes and biochambers filled with various plants and animals. They were changed, somehow, and they were still alive. But in a separate lab, he found evidence of human testing."  
Her voice broke, "Including proof that people were dissected. Alive."  
Charisse was silent, her heart having sunk to her feet. She was unable to speak as the horror of what Ella told her registered in her mind. She turned away, shaking slightly, gazing out the window that gave her a bird's eye view of Paradigm.   
They were over the domes and were heading towards the edges of the city; those places that Charisse had been told were too dangerous for normal people like herself. They hovered over what looked like an abandoned warehouse and started to lose altitude. The helicopter landed, several people cautiously approaching it as the blades slowed and the whirring silenced.  
Abel jumped out and motioned for Ella to hand him their captive. Charisse, silent, was passed person to person until she felt Abel's hand on her shoulder. He looked into her eyes and all she could see was grim regret.  
"I am sorry." He said in his deep voice. He led her through the crowd of people and inside the warehouse, handing her off to one more man wearing all black and brandishing a firearm.  
Chairsse finally found her nerve and struggled to turn and take one last look at Abel. For the first time she noticed that he couldn't be much younger than her own father, with salt and pepper hair that made his blue eyes darker than they would have been when he was a young man.  
"Come on." The younger man who had a firm hold on her arm said, pulling her along.  
Charisse sighed and went with him. He turned a corner and passed her off to another mercenary, who asked his comrade, "Where should I put her?"  
The first shrugged, "Put her in the old freezer. It might be a little chilly for the princess here, but it's the only door with a working lock, and we can't spare anyone for guard duty right now."  
Charisse was led by the arm to a large metal door covered in frost. She got a chill just from standing close to it as her jailer undid the lock. He opened the door for her, and she willingly walked in, knowing that she would probably get hurt resisting.   
The frigid air struck her lungs quickly, and she coughed once before the door was closed on her, leaving her only a dim stream of light from the small square window, already half frosted over.  
Again she struggled with her bonds before sighing in defeat. She walked around the small space quickly, trying to keep her body temperature up in the wintry room. Her breath came in white puffs that floated upwards, like tiny clouds drifting in a breezeless sky.  
Her short walk took her to the left side of the freezer, the only space occupied. The shelves had been removed in order to make room for several long, upright storage containment units that were all marked with the Triax Plastics trademark. They were all the same shape, all the dull gray of faded asphalt.   
Charisse's curiosity got the better of her, and she ran her hands along the sides of one of the units until she found the clasps that held it shut tight enough to be waterproof. The double set of clasps popped open while she tugged with her bonded hands.  
She straightened and pulled on the lid, bracing her feet against the ice covered floor. The lid slowly opened a little at a time, catching on spikes of ice that she had to break with her feet to get the lid to open wider.   
Her breath was coming in short, white puffs from her exercise, but it was about to be rewarded. The lid swung open and Charisse narrowly avoided being crushed by the object that fell out onto the ground. She cursed herself for every particle of curiosity she had, as she stared at the plastic wrapped item laying at her feet.  
Charisse bit her lower lip and started working at the tape around the package, knowing she should just leave it be, hoping in blissful ignorance that she would have only unwrapped stolen firearms. Yet, she couldn't have the knowledge that Ella had shared with her and still blind herself to what was going on.   
The cold was beginning to get to her, and she yawned, feeling the sleepiness that came just before freezing to death, so she worked more frantically, removing tape as best she could. The plastic came away in layers, and she moved back in horror as the wrappings revealed what was inside.  
Charisse found herself staring at the lifeless body of a thirteen-year-old boy, his face horribly distorted. She couldn't even imagine what could have done that to him as she backed away into the corner farthest away from the row of containment units. She had only gazed on him for a moment, but it was long enough to burn the image of curled flesh and abnormal facial growths sprouting what almost looked like machinery, into her mind.   
She bumped into the wall and she slid down, her legs no longer able to hold her weight. Charisse sat with her eye tightly closed and her hands pressed against her mouth. She was afraid that if she removed them, she would begin to scream, and she wouldn't be able to stop.   
  
  
  
  



	6. Rescue

Chapter 6: Rescue  
  
  
  
The ground rumbled under Roger as the Big O made it's appearance in the ruined garden of the flaming Triax Estate. He quickly got in, taking a moment to notice the familiar start up phrase, "Cast in the name of God. . .Ye not guilty."  
The police swarmed around the estate grounds, searching for the wounded, questioning those who had been around when the attack took place. Everyone was busy, but all heads turned skyward when the enormous MegaDeus started an eventual, lumbering yet graceful pace in the direction that the terrorist helicopter had taken.  
The Big O's tracking system followed the helicopter, Roger slowly but steadily guiding the MegaDeus through the city. He made sure to be careful of the smaller homes while resisting the urge to put one of the Big O's oversized forearms through the extravagant domes that housed the wealthy.   
Roger knew he shouldn't be tromping through the city, and he could think of several reasons why he should return the MegaDeus to it's place in the subway tunnels, but all of his reasoning was overridden by the one thing that kept him in the giant robot. Charisse.  
The helicopter's flight pattern stopped suddenly and began to lower on his radar. When it no longer registered, Roger pinpointed where it had disappeared as it's landing place. The Big O lumbered forward, towards the edges of Paradigm City.   
People in the streets gazed after him as the Big O passed through the normal traffic. No one screamed, but stopped and stared, almost used to the sight of the giant MegaDeus roaming the city.   
Roger started to wonder how reliable the Big O's tracking system was when he reached the warehouses close to the city limits. He couldn't see any sign of a helicopter or a launching pad, and he knew if they weren't around there, they would be outside the city limits, where very few people lived, and fewer visited. Roger also knew that he would never find Charisse if they had taken her out there.   
He stopped the Big O, swinging around slowly to take in what he could of the area. It was abandoned of people, no one in the streets that were covered in industrial grime, no stray animals, almost as if the place had been methodically cleared by something. The windows of the warehouses revealed nothing, most being boarded up from the outside. If he didn't find anything soon, Roger would start smashing through roofs. He would not leave without her.  
Roger started his walk through the warehouse district again, resisting the urge to cause irreparable damage in his wake, his patience wearing thin. The last row of warehouses all seemed the same, except for one. It's faded letters boasted of "butcher fresh frozen meat", but it wasn't the sign that caught Roger's eye. It was the fact that the windows were boarded up from the inside, instead of the outside.  
The Big O changed it's angle slightly and headed towards the meat warehouse when several people streamed out the front, all armed. Roger stopped, trying to see if Charisse was anywhere within the small clump of people huddled together for protection. One man stepped forward, and Roger recognized him as the leader of the terrorists.  
"What do you want?!" The leader yelled to the MegaDeus, his gun pointed at the giant robot's head, as much good as it would do. Roger wasn't worried about him, but the couple of terrorists with high powered rocket launchers could be a problem.  
"Where is she?"  
The leader took a step back, then raised his gun again, "Leave now! She is the key to ending this madness!"  
The leader took careful aim and started firing, apparently the cue for the others to do the same. Roger stepped forward calmly and used the hand of the Big O to sweep aside the first few shooters. The few with rocket launchers were closer to the building, so Roger was even more careful when disarming them, incase one went off towards the warehouse. He was sure Charisse was inside somewhere.   
Roger stopped the rocket launcher carriers again with one swift swipe of the Big O's hand, taking care to pick one member of the group who looked especially frightened. Perched between the giant robot's fingers, the man shook with the certain fear that he was about to die.  
"Where is she?" Roger asked again.  
The man trembled in his grasp, his mouth open to say something, but no words were being formed. Roger shook him gently, and the man cried out in fear, his eyes closed tightly.  
"The freezer! We put her in the freezer!" The frightened man screamed, shaking so badly that Roger was afraid he would shake out of the Big O's grasp.  
Roger set him down, blubbering and wheezing for air, his comrades rushing forward to pick him up and rush him to safety. Roger moved to the warehouse and did what he had been aching to do for so long. He plunged the Big O's giant arm through the roof of the warehouse, bringing part of it and a side wall, down to the ground.   
The interior had been revealed, and Roger spotted the door to the freezer quickly. He then bent the MegaDeus over and opened it, jumping out quickly as possible. Roger yanked the steel bar out of the lock and opened the door.  
"Charisse!"  
When he didn't get an answer, he stepped in, his breath automatically coming out in white puffs. He looked around, noticing the open containment unit on the left wall, something wrapped in plastic on the floor.  
Roger ventured in further, looking around, spotting a huddled mass on the floor in the corner. "Charisse."  
She was shaking terribly, and she didn't look up at the sound of her name, her hands that were bound together pressed tightly to her mouth, her eyes shut. Roger came over and picked her up in one swift movement.   
"Come on." He didn't miss the fact that though she was trembling like a leaf, she was incredibly cold to the touch, and she was hardly awake. He carried her in his arms back to the Big O, setting her down gently next to his seat.   
Roger untied her hands and put his tuxedo coat around her shoulders. Charisse still shook and her skin was paler that it should have been, her cheeks red and her lips purple. She made small whimpering noises as she began to warm, the Big O standing straight again. Roger turned a worried eye on her and knew he had to get her to a warm bed and soon.  
He swung the MegaDeus around only to take a rocket in the giant robot's chest. The Big O fell back wards, sliding several hundred feet past the warehouses, crashing into the wooded area on the limits of the city.   
Roger fell out of his seat, slamming sharply into the control panel just before Charisse impacted with him, forcing the air from his lungs. He wrapped a protective arm around her as the robot slid over the ground, while still trying to breathe.  
They rolled over together, and slammed into the top of the Big O as it stopped, Roger taking the brunt of the blow. He felt the blood trickle from his forehead just before he lost consciousness. Charisse lay in his arms limply, coughing slightly, unable to move. Just before she fell into the sweet, pain-free darkness, she noticed a figure standing over them both. Her eyes closed, her last thought of Roger, hoping they wouldn't kill him before she could tell him thank you.   
  
  
  



	7. Awake and Alive

Chapter 7: Awake and Alive  
  
Roger slowly opened his eyes and felt a damp washcloth on his forehead. He turned his head, but stabbing pain kept him from doing anything else for the moment. When the pain resided, he opened his eyes again and moved just his eyes to the person sitting next to him, watching over him. She was an older woman, her blond hair streaked with gray, her face wrinkled with worry and life. Yet her blue eyes still held a life force rare for anyone who had grown up outside one of the domes.  
  
"Don't move, you've got a slight concussion."  
  
Roger reached up and touched the bandage on his forehead that covered a cut. "Who are you?"  
  
"Mariel."  
  
Her voice was sharp and cautious, just like the rest of her thin body. Roger found himself filling with respect for this woman who had revealed nothing about herself but obviously knew more than she should about him.  
  
"Where's Charisse?"  
  
"Sleeping in the next room. After I got her warmed up she fell into a regular sleep and has been so ever since."  
  
"Where are we and how long have we been here?"  
  
Mariel helped him sit up, putting a pillow behind his back. "You're in my home, and you have been since your machine took a fall, which was about seven hours ago. It's getting close to dawn."  
  
Roger confirmed her information by glancing at his watch. He looked back up and found her searching his face with her piercing blue eyes carefully.  
  
"Thank you for your help."  
  
She nodded, "Abel went too far kidnapping that girl after attacking that party with so much force."  
  
He stiffened, "You're a part of Abel's renegades?"  
  
"No. I was, and still am on paper, Abel's wife. After our son died, he became consumed with finding out what happened, but when he started stockpiling weapons and making plans to take matters into his own hands, I...I left."  
  
"And moved outside the city?"  
  
Mariel nodded, "This cabin is my sanctuary from that city, that cesspool of human despair. I can hear everything here, see everything, appreciate everything that others take for granted."  
  
Roger recognized the look in her eyes, the kind that made his own soul respond in kind. The urge to be free of the confines that kept the people in Paradigm. He felt his headache ebb slightly and reached out, touching Mariel's wrinkled hand.  
  
"If you don't mind I'd like to see Charisse now."  
  
She nodded and stood up, "It's the door to the right of this one. I'm going to run a few errands but I'll be back during the morning. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the fridge."  
  
With her last offer of hospitality she left him alone in his room to slowly test his body and rise from the bed. Roger noticed that the room was Spartan in it's decoration, the single bed made with white sheets and blue blankets and the windows covered with dark blue curtains that curbed any light from leaking through. Nothing covered the walls, and the hard floor was covered with a plain blue carpet. He opened the door and turned right, another closed door meeting him. He knocked gently and waited for a reply.  
  
"Come in."  
  
He opened the door and came face to face with Charisse. Roger couldn't keep a smile from his lips as he noticed she was wearing nothing but a cotton bath towel wrapped around her middle. Her hair was wet from her shower and hanging down her back, a few drops of water still clinging to her shapely legs. Charisse held the towel shut tightly around her body, but smiled at him. Her face was free of make up, but it made her even more enchanting, proving that her beauty was quite natural.  
  
"I'm so glad you're well."  
  
"It's good to see that your up."  
  
She nodded, her eyes slightly haunted, "You came for me, and I can't thank you enough."  
  
"I wouldn't be any sort of gentleman if I left you there."  
  
Charisse moved closer to him, the scent of soap and her skin filling his senses, her hair reminding him of spun cinnamon sugar that fell around her shoulders in damp curls. The thought of finding out exactly what was under that towel was beginning to distract him as much as her close proximity. She reached out with the hand not holding the towel around her form and touched the bandage on his forehead, frowning at it angrily.  
  
"That should have never happened."  
  
Roger let a smile touch his lips at her concern. "I gladly took this one for the team. But only because the rest of the team is so attractive."  
  
Charisse chuckled and let her fingers trail from the bandage down his cheek to his shoulder. Roger stepped forward, closing the gap between them and leaned down, gently kissing her. Her hand moved up behind his neck and held him to her, her eager mouth slowly opening his, her tongue sparking fire along his lips and inside his mouth. He touched her cheek with one hand, the other running down her bare back until it met damp towel and continued downward until his fingers conformed to the curves of her hips.  
  
She reached up with her other hand, using it to unbutton his tuxedo shirt and he felt the towel slip to the ground beneath his fingers. While pressing her naked body against himself, Roger moved them both to the bed, kicking off his shoes as they fell onto the mussed blankets. He leaned his head down and kissed her throat and collar bones gently while Charisse unbuttoned his shirt completely and pulled it out of his pants, stripping it from his arms and dropping it to the floor.  
  
Roger moved lower and pulled off his pants while his lips roamed her soft breasts, eliciting moans from her that only encouraged him to keep doing what he was doing. Soon his nude body was pressed heavily against hers on the bed, skin against skin, sweat covering them both in a thin, slick coating filled with their intense passion.   
  
Slowly and gently he slid into her, fully appreciating how hot and tight she felt around him. Charisse wrapped her legs around him and whispered gently in his ear to encourage him, her voice so close to his brain more enforcing than all her moans of pleasure. When Roger finally felt her orgasm around him, he gave into the release that was almost to the precise point of pain and felt her sigh in what was almost relief mixed with the slow ebb of her own intense pleasure.   
  
He rolled off her and held her spent body to his own, his hand caressing her arm gently as she moved her body close, so as much skin as possible was touching. They basked in the afterglow silently, and Roger wondered what would have happened between them if he hadn't had to save her. Suddenly she leaned up and kissed his mouth gently, the sweet lips against his almost chaste, and his doubts drained away. 


End file.
